Today I went to Kleifarvatn again
I’m not sure what I wanted to see.
The mountains around it bulged with
Strange colours, ochre and rust, bent
As only hardened lava can be. Even
The sandy shore reared away from
The whipped waters, blinding the black
Shores brown. I let the hair blow into my eyes.
“Look”, I said. “How astonishing, the ropey
Ground. How it rippled as it flowed.”
The mists hid almost everything, but I saw
The water’s edge, white-frothed and clear.
“I’m so glad you could see this,” I said to my friend.
“I always bring everyone here.”

Some days I am the frozen lake
Peaceful amidst strong hills
Some days I am the petulant sun
Determined to go where I will.
The other day, I was the laden cloud
Shattered by epiphany
My brooding greys split black and white
My single sharded to many.
Today I am the jagged edges
of shorelines uncertain and sharp
Pulling away from towering pledges
Shadowed from the bright-lit heart.

I wonder if the lake I was
Runs, still, beneath the crust
If courage is not the water’s edge
Meeting what shores it must.